The envelope was next to him on the seat, and he put his hand on it to feel the thickness. There was the roof, and the truck would probably need new tires this winter, and their propane tank was near empty. Those were just the basics. There were hospital bills too. Debt, a creature that sometimes seemed to open its mouth to him. A great swallowing maw. He drummed his fingers on the bank envelope while he ran the figures—adding and then subtracting, subtracting, subtracting. That’s how it always seemed to go.
